


Take My Shirt and Put On My Pants

by misura



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, M/M, Possessiveness, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Take off your clothes," Bryce says, and if his voice comes out sounding low and urgent and husky, it's because this </i>is<i> urgent.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Shirt and Put On My Pants

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _When Chuck goes undercover to save a kidnapped girl, Bryce has to save him from his rescue mission._ , kink: _brothels_

" _Bryce_ ," Chuck whispers the moment they're alone - or as alone as they can get in this place; it's likely the rooms are all bugged and if so, Chuck may just have blown both their covers. "What are you _doing_ here?"

On the other hand, at least Chuck hasn't given away a thing in the hallway, or the large room with the couches and the pillows and the (mostly fake) erotic art. Some people might call that progress. (Bryce calls that proof that he's doing the right thing, that Chuck shouldn't be here. The Chuck he knew back at Stanford would have been blushing and stammering and acting awkwardly, not sit around, putting himself on display like a ... well. Good thing Bryce is here, now.)

"Take off your clothes," Bryce says, and if his voice comes out sounding low and urgent and husky, it's because this _is_ urgent.

"Uh, what?"

There's not much to Chuck's outfit, really; it's hard to put his hands anywhere without also touching naked skin, naked _Chuck_. Bryce almost wishes he'd passed on this mission, except that the thought of anyone else touching Chuck like this makes him want to kill someone.

"Look," Chuck says, and here's the blushing, stammering Chuck Bryce remembers. "I was just - I'm not - "

"I'm taking your place," Bryce says.

There's a profile - dark hair, innocent looks, average height. Bryce can pull it off as easily as Chuck, and he'll have the advantage of not actually _being_ innocent.

"You - oh." Chuck seems oddly disappointed, as if he'd expected -

God. "You thought I was here as a _client_?" Bryce isn't really whispering. He's also not really giving a damn about that right now.

"Contact?" Chuck offers, weakly.

"I would _never_ \- " Bryce starts, because he _wouldn't_ , not ever, not Chuck, not for any reason - or, well, not for any reason not involving Chuck's very clear and enthusiastic consent.

Chuck sort of ... withers. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, thanks."

If there _are_ cameras in this room, and if they're being watched in real time, they've pretty much screwed up the mission.

Which means that, really, Bryce can just as well deal with this whole thing right here and now. "Chuck. This isn't your kind of mission."

"Right. I should just stay in the car."

If Bryce had things his way, Chuck wouldn't even get that close. He'd be staying at home, safe. Waiting for Bryce to get back, and possibly wearing an outfit a bit like the one Bryce has just gotten off of him.

Or maybe Chuck'd just be Chuck, warm and friendly and innocent. That works for Bryce just fine, too.

"These people are dangerous. This _place_ is dangerous. Even if they buy your cover, do you have any idea what they could do to you?"

Stubborn looks better on Chuck than withered. "There was a briefing? Didn't see you there, by the way."

"You're in over your head." Bryce wishes Chuck would simply accept that and get on with things; it's not as if _Bryce_ likes being here, after all. He's only doing it for the mission. For Chuck. Mostly for Chuck.

His own clothes don't come off as easily as Chuck's, but Bryce has had a lot of practice.

"And you're no-whoa, buddy. Maybe a bit of a warning next time."

Bryce has taken off his shirt. His _shirt_. And Chuck wants an advance warning for that. "Pants are next," Bryce says.

For one moment, he thinks Chuck is actually going to turn his back.

"Look, it's not that I think you _can't_ do this - " although Bryce does, in fact, think that " - it's that I think you shouldn't."

"And you should?" Chuck asks.

"I'm not you." It's as simple as that. It's always been as simple as that.

Chuck still looks stubborn when Bryce hands him his shirt, but he does put it on, and the pants, after, and Bryce takes deep, slow breaths as he tries to focus on the mission, the objective, the file he's read. The way Chuck covers more and more skin, and goes more and more back to being himself.

 

"You were right, you know," he tells Chuck after, mission accomplished without Bryce even needing to - well.

"About what?"

"If it'd been for real, or even if you'd just needed it for your cover, I _would_ have come for you as a client." Bryce doesn't like that part of himself, the small part that wants to take Chuck any way he can have him - willing, yes, by preference, but drunk or incapacitated or bought might do.

Chuck looks a little embarrassed. "Thanks. Good to know I shouldn't count on you for a rescue."

"I didn't mean - " Only Chuck. Only Chuck can make him sound like this much of an idiot. " _Chuck_!"

Chuck grins at him. "Gotcha."

Bryce throws a peanut at him, and things go downhill pretty fast from there.


End file.
